


I haven't touched grass in a hot minute can you tell?

by yoshikageshakira



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), George visits the prison, I can't stress enough how much this is about the characters and not the cc's, M/M, Praise Kink, Top GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), if I made Dream a pillow princess no I didn't, stuff ensues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29712204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshikageshakira/pseuds/yoshikageshakira
Summary: “Move with the bridge. When you enter the cell I’m going to rerelease the lava behind you. Understood?”George gives the warden a stern nod and sets his left foot on the stone platform in front of him. The effect is immediate, and he almost trips over himself but luckily he regains his balance fairly quickly. “Good, that would've been embarrassing.” He thinks. He then proceeds to keep walking with the bridge like the warden told him to. God, this is like the world's shittiest conveyer belt. And it's taking way too long, in George’s opinion. Never mind all the dying and obstacle courses he had to go through to get here in the first place.Hopefully it'll be worth it though.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 137





	I haven't touched grass in a hot minute can you tell?

“Move with the bridge. When you enter the cell I’m going to rerelease the lava behind you. Understood?” 

George gives the warden a stern nod and sets his left foot on the stone platform in front of him. The effect is immediate, and he almost trips over himself but luckily he regains his balance fairly quickly.  _ “Good, that would've been embarrassing.”  _ He thinks. He then proceeds to keep walking with the bridge like the warden told him to. God, this is like the world's shittiest conveyer belt. And it's taking way too long, in George’s opinion. Never mind all the dying and obstacle courses he had to go through to get here in the first place.

Hopefully it'll be worth it though. 

He's approaching the black box-like room in the middle of the lava field. He should be able to see him any second now. A small pit is forming in his stomach and he swallows. He’s really picking _right_ _now_ to get nervous, huh? If he told Dream he’d definitely get teased for it. The fact that _Dream is the reason he's nervous_ doesn't exactly better his situation. 

His thoughts are, fortunately perhaps, interrupted by the bridge coming to a sudden halt. At least this time George doesn't trip over himself as he steps into the cell. 

He doesn't see Dream. 

_ Huh. _

He takes a look around. Everything seems normal enough. There's a sack of raw potatoes in one of the corners along with a stove and a kettle. There's also a crate of books and a small clock hanging on the wall. It's probably the ugliest clock George has ever seen. It's completely burned in some places and the hands don't even move. 

_ “Pitiful, huh?” _

George hates himself for jumping at the sudden voice. He  _ knows _ that voice. 

“Dream?” 

“George.” 

It's coming from another corner on the opposite end of the room. Right behind him. 

So he turns around. And there on a small bench he sits. 

And George probably melts a little bit. 

He's wearing different clothes. The Signature Green Hoodie™️ has been swapped for one of those orange prison overalls.  _ An overall that's slightly unbuttoned at the chest,  _ and George has to mentally slap himself because him and Dream are having a moment right now. He's wearing proper shoes, to George’s surprise. Who knew prison gave you upgrades in the footwear department!  _ Then again, it's not hard to upgrade from a pair of dirty sneakers Dream literally found in a junkyard one time and refused to let go of for some ungodly reason.  _

Then George realizes he's not wearing his mask. 

His dirty blonde hair has grown since they last met, and his bangs almost cover his eyes.  _ God, those eyes.  _ And the rest of his face, jagged as ever, sports some new scars George doesn't recognize. He's almost close enough to touch him now, and almost as if on instinct, or maybe in solidarity? He reaches for his own face and takes his glasses off. 

There. Green meets silver. 

“You came.” Dream says. That's all he says. What happened to his voice? It sounds hollow. Like a shell, almost. What happened to  _ him? _

_ “Oh Dream.”  _ Is all George can respond with because he really doesn't know what else to say. He just knows he has to touch him.  _ Now. _

So he cups his face in his hands and maybe melts a little bit more because Dream  _ leans into it. _

“I didn't think- I’m-” Dream almost croaks out. 

_ “I think I stopped hoping.”  _

_ “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” _ George whispers back. He can feel tears burning the corner ls of his eyes. Fuck, is he about to cry already? 

And then he stops because Dream kisses him. 

Well, it's more of a lips-against-lips brush, but it's enough to shut the voices in George’s head up for a good minute at least. 

So he accepts the invitation and kisses him back. And this time it's a proper kiss. Almost  _ hungry,  _ George thinks. Like he's a starved man and Dream is the only food left on earth. He moves his hands from Dream’s cheeks to the back of his head, filling his palms with those blonde curls. He deepens the kiss, then. And his ears  _ definitely _ catch the muffled whimper that escapes Dream’s mouth as their tongues finally make contact. 

They spend a good moment like this, re-exploring each other's mouths. Sucking and biting on lips and grazing teeth. At least until Dream pulls away and bares his jawline. And who is George to decline  _ that? _ Dream starts whimpering again as George peppers his jawline with kisses, careful not to miss any of the sweet spots he can remember from before.

Then Dream lets out his first full-blown moan as George finally places his mouth on Dream’s neck and  _ sucks. _

The sound is enough to send jolts throughout George’s entire body, and he sucks down even harder, making sure to bruise the pale skin. _ “Gonna show that fucking warden who you really belong to”  _ he murmurs softly, not missing the sharp inhale Dream lets out at the statement. 

When he's satisfied with his work, Dream is panting like he just ran a marathon. George gives the mark a soft kiss, y'know, for good measure, And proceeds to work his way back up to Dream’s face. He takes it in his hands again and kisses every dent, every scar he can find. 

_ “God… you're so pretty, Dream…” _ he whispers lowly.  _ “Even here, in this place, So pretty for me…” _

He kisses his hairline, his eyebrows, his earlobe, all while muttering  _ “so pretty” _ and  _ “all for me” _ making Dream let out sweet mewls in the process. 

_ “Y-yes… for you g-geo-  _ **_fuck!_ ** _ Aahh…”  _ Is all Dream can muster as George places his hands on his chest, loosely gripping the overall buttons. 

_ “Can this go off?”  _

George figures he really shouldn't be taken by surprise by this point as Dream grabs his wrist and places his hand firmly over his left breast. 

_ “Can you feel it George? Can you feel how much I’m fucking aching for you?”  _

Of course George can feel it. Dream’s heart is going crazy under that overall. And of course it goes straight to George's dick. 

But he's not gonna act on it. Not yet at least. 

_ This is about making Dream feel good, _ he decides then and there. Because he's just too damn adorable to refuse. 

So he acts coy instead.  _ “That doesn't answer my question.” _

Dream actually  _ pouts _ at that. Holy shit. 

_ “What the fuck do you think it means, George? Yes I fucking want you to take it off, god, I want you to  _ **_ruin_ ** _ me-”  _

George shuts him up with another kiss before he can continue because fuck, that's just too hot. He then starts making good on his promise, undoing the first button and to literally no one's surprise, Dream's hands are right there with his, scrambling to get them all undone as fast as possible. 

When George pulls away this time he's greeted by more pale, scarred skin.  _ Fuck, he's missed this.  _

He places his hands back on Dream’s chest, lovingly running them down his upper torso, stopping at his nipples. 

Dream’s skin is  _ softer  _ now, George notes. It used to be more sunburnt and rugged, and while that was enough to drive him crazy, sure, there's something about this new Dream that just makes him want to-

_ “Stop fucking teasing-” _ Dream says, snapping George out of whatever trance he was in. He gives him a look and suddenly Dream's features go soft again and he whimpers out a  _ “-Please”  _ and that's more than enough to get George ready to eat the eye candy. 

He starts kissing Dream's left nipple, right above his heart which is still going about 20 miles over the speed limit by the way, while his other hand starts working the right. Then he switches. Then he goes back. This is all well and good, sure, but soon enough Dream starts moaning  _ “lower, lower, George, fuck-” _ and then he  _ presses his hips into George's abdomen. _

The fact that Dream was hard as a rock should've been fairly obvious to George by now, he’s not doing too much better himself after all, his pants straining against himself, but the sudden action forces him to come face to face with the full-on  _ tent _ that has formed between the other’s spread thighs. 

“Are- are you wearing anything under this?” He asks, his throat suddenly dry for some reason. 

Now it's  _ Dream’s _ turn to act coy. 

_ “I don't know… wanna find out?” _

So he pulls the overall down even further. 

And then he stops. 

“Is something wrong baby?” Dream asks. 

“No, nothings  _ wrong _ , it's just-”

“Just what?” 

George’s eyes are fixated on Dream's stomach. Something's… different about it. Didn't he use to have abs here? 

He looks back up at Dream, who's somehow even more beet red in the face right now. 

“I’ve been stuck in a tiny room eating nothing but potatoes for a month, so-” 

George shuts him up by kissing him again. This time on a scar right above his navel.  _ Fuck _ , he’s so soft there now it's almost enough to push him over the edge. 

_ “You're perfect…” _ he murmurs into the plush skin.  _ “So perfect”  _

He keeps kissing his stomach, his chest, his stomach again, running his hands over Dream’s hips, grabbing them. They're a bit fuller than he remembers, too. Sitting in a room eating nothing but potatoes for a month does a body good, apparently. He kneads them as Dream lets out those sweet pants and moans, kissing him all over and praising him all the while until he's finally back at the waistband of Dream’s boxers. 

“I’m gonna take these off now. ‘S that okay?” He asks, one final time.

Dream nods frantically, his hand over his mouth.  _ “Don't tell me he's afraid to start making noise now.”  _ George thinks to himself. 

Nevertheless, he pulls the boxers down and comes face to face with Dream's now leaking cock, which George has ignored this entire time and is probably desperate to be touched. There's really nothing stopping George from taking it all at once but-

When will he get a chance like this again? 

_ Will _ he get a chance like this again?? 

Then he realizes he's already teasing by doing nothing, so what the hell, might as well go all out. 

He decides to test the waters by blowing a little air on it, and the response is… well, it's immediate. Dream almost  _ wails _ into his hand and bucks his hips violently, nearly hitting George in the face. 

Okay, he's clearly been teased enough.

George grabs Dream’s hips again and starts rubbing them soothingly, speaking as softly as he possibly can. “I’ll give you what you want, so try to hold still for me, babe. Okay?” 

Dream nods again, tears running down his face.  _ “Y-yes, George-” _

George presses a kiss to the head of the cock as a response. 

_ “Good boy” _

This makes Dream's entire body  _ jolt _ , and his cock twitches under George’s lips, but he's not moving anymore, so George can finally get to work in earnest. 

He starts out fairly small, still. Just the head. He wants this to  _ last _ , after all. He might need to hurry it up though, because Dream's legs are already shaking and his breathing is getting more and more shallow. 

He takes in about half, feeling it pulse inside his mouth. God he forgot how much he  _ missed _ the taste of Dream. 

He finally takes all of him, feeling the head hit the back of his throat. He moves at a steady pace, his nose sometimes making contact with the plushness of Dream's stomach and the roughness of his pubes. 

Then, finally, Dream removes his hand from his mouth, placing both it as well as the other one in George’s hair. He gives it a light tug, causing George to look up. 

_ “George… fuck, George please I’ve been- been so-  _ **_ah-_ ** _ good-”  _

George pulls out for a bit, causing Dream to whine at the loss of friction. 

“You wanna fuck my face?” 

Dream nods again, his words betraying him completely. How the fuck is George supposed to refuse him when he's like this?

_ “Go ahead then.” _ George gives his okay as he takes Dream's full length back into his mouth. Dream in question wastes no time as he starts thrusting into his face at a rough, unsteady pace. George basically loses any train of thought at this moment. There's only himself, his love, and this cell as he begins unbuttoning his own pants, finally freeing himself. He slowly begins stroking himself to the rhythm of Dream repeating the phrases  _ “yours, yours, yours, yours” _ and  _ “missed you, missed you, missed you, missed you” _

He doesn't get to stay in the moment for long, though. As Dream suddenly cries out  _ “GEORGE, I’M ABOUT T- FUCK- PLEASE I LOVE- AAAAAHHHHHHH-” _ and comes  _ hard _ down George's throat, practically yelling as he does. 

It's a long orgasm, and George makes sure to take every drop of what Dream is offering him. When he eventually pulls off he's panting as well, his lips red and his throat burning. 

Of course, he immediately starts trying to finish himself off. 

He’s only interrupted by a sudden  _ “wait.” _

He looks up at Dream again. His face is red from crying, he's clearly overstimulated and tired as all shit and to top it all off his cock is still out.

_ “Beautiful” _ he thinks. 

“You shouldn't have to do that by yourself” Dream tells him.  _ Then he pats his own leg. _

_ “C’mere” _

George answers by pressing a final kiss to the dick in front of him,  _ because he can't help it, _ and watches as Dream lets out a breathy moan. 

“Please, no more teasing” Dream laughs as he tucks himself back in his boxers. Then he  _ leans down and whispers in George's ear.  _

_ “It's my turn to make you feel good now”  _

And fuck if that  _ ALSO _ doesn't go straight to George’s dick. He gets up almost a little too fast, earning another laugh from Dream, and places himself on Dream's thing, with him between his legs. 

_ “Fuck, I almost forgot how big you are, George…” _ Dream coos as he wraps a hand around George's cock, causing him to groan.  _ “You've been so good, George. Holding yourself back for me…” _

George can't even be mad about Dream throwing his previous dirty talk right back at him. He just starts kissing him again, because what else is he supposed to do to repay him for making him feel this good? He wasn't lying before when he said that Dream was perfect. Not perfect to everyone,  _ god no, _ but perfect to  _ him.  _

And he loves him for it. 

He somehow finds his way back to the mark he made earlier, and he doesn't know why, but fuck, the sight of it just  _ does _ something to him. He doesn't know if it's because Dream somehow notices, or if it's pure happenstance, but almost as if on cue he starts stroking him faster. He even uses his free hand to go underneath and start fondling George's balls, which is more than enough to get him all the way and he lets out another groan. 

Dream is his. Only his. Just like George is Dreams.

As George’s orgasm overtakes him completely, he places his teeth on the mark and  _ bites down. _

\----

“That was hot”

“I’m so sorry”

“Would you stop apologizing already?” 

“It's  _ definitely _ gonna leave a mark though-”

“-And?” 

They've been going back and forth like this for about 20 minutes now. George is currently holding a cold piece of fabric over Dream’s shoulder, trying to soothe the wound. 

The wound  _ George _ made because he was  _ horny. _

_ “Why am I like this?” _ He whispers to himself as he removes the rag to dip it in water.

“Hey, you're not the one who ended up in jail.” Dream replies. “By the way, I’m pretty sure you owe me a new fit.”

“You have multiple copies lying over there!”

“That was my favorite copy”

They both laugh. There's something so oddly comforting about this situation. Even though they're surrounded by a sea of lava, stuck in an impregnable fortress, they have each other. And that's more than enough. 

Then Dream stops laughing. And he takes George's hand. 

“Are you going to leave now?” 

George had tried not to think about that. 

“When do I have to leave?” That's the best reply he can come up with. 

“I don't know. In like a week, at best?” 

George would love to tell him that yes,  _ yes of course _ he'll stay here for a week. He’ll stay here for a month, a year, a  _ life _ if Dream asks him to. 

But there are cities that need building. People that need saving. The world’s evolving is a constant, and George can't fall behind. Not again. He's let enough people down already. 

But he doesn't want to let Dream down either, and that's a problem. 

So he chooses. 

“I’ll stay here for the night. And in the morning, when I’m gone, know that I’ll be back next week. And the week after that, and all the coming weeks if you’d like.”

He doesn't have to worry about the answer for long because Dream’s lips meet his almost immediately. 

“It's a promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not writing anything for about a month and then turning around and typing out a smutfic in 3 hours because I Had An Idea is very on brand for me I think


End file.
